


I've Been There

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Dilaudid, Drug Addiction, F/M, Love Confessions, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 20:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

She was his best friend. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. 

But what if they were too late? 

“We have to make it,” Spencer mumbled under his breath. “Hotch, step on it!”

“I’m going as fast as I can without losing control of the car, Reid!” he yelled back. They were weaving through traffic, watching as cars and vans alike veered off to the sides of the road as if they were forced to do so by some supernatural force.

It wasn’t going to be fast enough. They had the trace. They knew who he was. They knew she was still alive. But she wasn’t going to be for much longer. If she died, he’d never forgive himself. A tear rolled down his cheek as he gripped the leather seat so tightly that his nails broke the material. “Kid, we’re gonna get to her,” Morgan said, placing his hand on Reid’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” he mumbled, bringing his hand, knuckles still white, up to cover his quivering lip. “If we don’t get to her in time…”

“We will,” Morgan said again. Reid wished he could believe Morgan, but everything in his brain was screaming at him that they were going to be too late and this was all his fault.

As they pulled up to the warehouse, they split up into pairs, entering from all different angles. Morgan and Reid were the closest. “I’ll go first,” Morgan whispered. Reid opened his mouth to protest; he wanted the first shot at this bastard. But that was exactly why Morgan needed to be the first one in. 

Gently but quickly, he pushed the door open. “Step away!” he yelled. “Put the needle down!” But it was too late; he had pushed the plunger just as they’d walked in the door. 

“No!” Reid yelled, falling to his knees at her side and fearing the worst. As he picked up the bottle, he saw what it was; he knew it all too well. When he pressed his fingers to her neck, she still had a pulse, but they needed to get her to a hospital immediately.

Before collapsing at her side, Reid had dropped his gun. As the rage coursed through him, he felt himself reaching for it. Ready to pull the trigger. “Reid!” Morgan bellowed. “Take her and leave! I have him!”

He kicked his gun back toward Morgan, not trusting himself to spare the man’s life before picking up Y/N and carrying her out of the warehouse just as the ambulance showed up. “I’m coming with you,” he told the EMT. “She’s my best friend.”

“We need to go now,” the man said. “Let’s go.” 

—–

She wouldn’t have made it another 30 minutes at the rate he’d been drugging and beating her. It was a miracle she’d made it as it was. After ensuring that the drugs were out of her system, she’d been released from the hospital. He hadn’t heard from her in a week. “Y/N?” he called, rapping on the door to her apartment. Granted, it made sense for people to withdraw after trauma, but from what he could tell, she withdrew from everyone. Extreme social isolation was an effect of the drug she’d been given - he knew firsthand. To be alone for this long wasn’t good for her either. “It’s Spencer. Please let me in.”

“What is it?” she yelled, opening the door with such speed that the breeze knocked his hair into his eyes. “What do you want Spencer?”

He swallowed hard. The woman in front of him wasn’t the woman he knew. Her skin was pallid and drawn, her eyes sunken in her head. Those beautiful eyes that held a thousand memories were devoid of anything. Even in the week since she’d been taken, she’d lost weight. Her wrists looked impossibly thin. Her skin was damp with sweat, but yet she was still wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Never in a million years did he imagine his best friend - the woman he loved - would end up addicted to dilaudid. But all the signs were there. “You shouldn’t be alone,” he said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Y/N?”

It was as if she wasn’t paying attention. “Y/N?”

“What?” she snapped, turning away from the door and walking into her apartment. “I have such a headache. Tell me whatever you need to tell me and go.”

Spencer was about to tell her he could see the signs. He was more positive of her addiction than anything he’d ever known. But just as he opened his mouth, she collapsed, nearly hitting her head on the table as her body convulsed uncontrollably. “Y/N!” he screamed, falling to her side and grabbing hold of her head. “It’s okay…It’s gonna be okay. I’m here.” 

As he cradled her head in his lap, he dialed 911. “My friend is having a seizure!” he yelled into the phone. “Please! Help her!” He looked down just as her eyes began to roll back. 

The operator confirmed her address and told him what to do to keep her comfortable, but he already knew how to do that. What he didn’t know was how to do was help when it ended. After the shaking and tremors subsided, how was he supposed to help her get back to the person she used to be?

—–

He felt something squeeze his palm. “Y/N,” he said, looking up, hopeful that she’d be okay following such an intense seizure. “You’re okay…”

She closed her eyes, swallowing back a sob as the walls of tears streamed down her face. “No…I’m not…”

“I know,” he said, taking his other hand and enveloping her entire plan. “I know you’re not…but you’re alive. And you’re not alone.”

In the past, he’d told her about the night he’d been taken by Tobias Henkel and drugged. How he always assumed he was the last person that could or would get addicted to drugs. How scared he’d been every time the plunger was pushed down. Would he ever wake up again? How after he got home, he suddenly found himself roaming the streets looking for someone who could sell him what he needed. She’d never understood any of it. Had always looked at him in awe. But now she knew. As their eyes met, a look of solidarity passed between them. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said, squeezing his hand again.

“It’s okay. I know why. I’ve been there,” he said. “And I’m going to be with you for every step of the recovery process. If you want me to be here during the withdrawals, I’m here.” 

She attempted to push off of the hospital bed. Find some leverage to sit up. But between the drugs and the seizure, she was too weak, so Spencer stood up and placed his hands under her arms to prop her up. “Why would you do that for me?” she asked. “I was so mean…and you’ve been through this before. You shouldn’t have to do this again.”

“I’d do it for you because I love you,” he said, the word spilling out of him like water over a waterfall. “I love you, Y/N…I always have.”

With a choked sob, she brought her hand to her mouth. “I love you too…When…When he had me, you were the only reason I kept fighting. I didn’t want to die without telling you…”

“I know,” he breathed, the tears falling from his eyes as he came to sit by her side. “I know.”


End file.
